What Could Have Happened?
by Scutellaria Laterifolia
Summary: Just a collection of stories about FF8's character pasts!
1. Intro

These are a collection of stories about a few of the FF8 characters. Not all characters are covered. I prefer freestyle so I did those that didn't have a dictated past. I take full rights on the Laguna story, except for Laguna himself, the places and Clay, Laguna's dad. I heard the name Clay Loire in another fanfic, it just fit perfectly! (Dakota is MINE!) So thanks to that person, whoever you are!  
  
I'm going to cover (not in any particular order):  
  
QUISTIS TREPE  
  
IRVINE KINNEAS  
  
SELPHIE TILMITT  
  
SEIFER ALMASY  
  
LAGUNA LOIRE  
  
And maybe, MAYBE a few others. I doubt it though. 


	2. Quistis Trepe

I decided to tell the story on FF8's characters, excluding Squall and Rinoa, cause they're pasts are talked about.  
  
QUISTIS TREPE  
  
"Congratulations Mr. Trepe, you've a baby girl!" The doctor handed the blue- eyed baby to Greg Trepe. Greg looked down at the baby in his arms, smiling.  
  
"Where's Molly? She alright?" Greg asked, referring to his wife.  
  
"Mr. Trepe, there were some complications during birth and Mrs. Trepe has, sadly, passed." The doctor said.  
  
"Then it's not my baby." Greg whispered.  
  
"Quistis Trepe." The doctor pressed. "She's your child. Mrs. Trepe named her. You may take your child, Mr. Trepe, or we can arrange proper housing for the child."  
  
Greg shook his head. "I'll take her, don't you worry." Greg took baby Quistis, and left the hospital.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Two year-old Quistis tottered to her father. "Daddy?" She asked. "Daddy!"  
  
"What? I'm up!" Greg jumped, sending papers flying to the floor. "Molly?"  
  
"No daddy, silly!" Quistis giggled and pointed to the papers then to herself. "It's Quistis!"  
  
"Oh, Quistis, baby! I didn't see you there." Greg rumpled Quistis' hair and Quistis patted it down again, worse than before. "Y'know, I used to brush your mother's hair all the time!"  
  
"Mommy? Can you brush MY hair???"  
  
"Sure can, baby! C'mon. Let's go get a brush and comb. I'll do it up for you." Greg was a hairdresser, and he had spotted Molly for her luxuriant blonde locks. The same locks that adorned Quistis' head.  
  
"I wanna bun! Like mommy had in the picture! Okay daddy?"  
  
"Alright, Quistis. A bun. How about with your bangs hanging out?"  
  
"Okay!"  
  
Greg spent the next hour brushing out Quistis' hair while teaching her to read.  
  
"Once. Uh. Pon. Uh. Thyme. The. There. Was. A. Girl. Who. Wa. Want. Wanted. To. Fly. An. Air plan?" Quistis read in broken English. She sounded out the words and over-pronounced them.  
  
"Airplane, sweetie."  
  
"Oh. Alright!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Greg looked down sad-eyed on three year-old Quistis. "It's for the best." He reminded himself.  
  
"What are you thinking about, daddy?"  
  
"C'mon Quistis. You're going on a trip." Greg said. To Quistis' protests he picked her up and took her to her bedroom. "Can I do your hair?"  
  
"Sure daddy!" Greg retrieved his brushes and combs and taught Quistis how to put her hair up.  
  
"Take this comb and pull out your bangs, okay? Never use your fingers. It'll get uneven." Once he had her hair up, he undid it. "Now you do it." Quistis proceeded to put her hair up in the exact same way Greg did. "Perfect!" Greg beamed. "Now, let's get you packed, okay?"  
  
"Okay!" Quistis pulled open her pajama drawer and pretended to think. She started selecting a few carefully folded garments and put them on the floor. She pushed the drawer in. "Will three be enough?" She asked.  
  
"You're going for a long time. Bring them all."  
  
"All? Okay, daddy." Quistis opened the drawer again and got all of her pajamas out. She did the same with all of the other drawers while Greg packed suitcases. Quistis grabbed her stuffed toys and a few books and put them into another bag. "Aren't you going to pack?" Quistis asked. Greg shook his head.  
  
"No, baby. No." Greg said. He picked up all of Quistis' bags and pulled them out the door. The streets of Deling City were crowded, so Greg signaled a taxi. He piled the suitcases in and put Quistis in too. "We're going to your aunt's house!" He said. He climbed in and told the driver to go to a house at the other side of town.  
  
When they arrived at Greg's sister's house, Quistis asked to play, which she did so quietly. Greg motioned his sister aside.  
  
"I can't." He said. "Molly's dead and every day it's like a reflection. I can't handle her around."  
  
"But you love Quistis!" His sister pressed. "And you loved Molly! I can't take her!"  
  
"For a while?" Greg put on a pouty face.  
  
"Fine. Quistis?" Quistis looked up. "You're going to stay here a while, okay?" Quistis nodded excitedly.  
  
"Bye, baby." Greg said, swooping out the door before anyone could protest.  
  
"Can I read to you, Auntie?" Quistis asked.  
  
"Of course, Quistis. Go right ahead."  
  
"Once upon a time, there was a princess. . ."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Patricia dropped the newspaper in horror. Just like that.  
  
"Quistis! Go to your room for a little bit, okay?"  
  
"Yes, Auntie."  
  
The newspaper didn't fade, didn't change. The words were there in black and white.  
  
"No," Patricia moaned. "No, no, no." She picked up the newspaper again, reading the top heading.  
  
'SUICIDE BOMB KILL THREE PEOPLE' The headline screamed. It went on to say that the three people were 'Ophelia Moist', 'Janna Crockspan' and 'Gregory Trepe.'  
  
"Not Gregory, no." Patricia told herself. "No!"  
  
"Is everything alright, Auntie?" Quistis asked.  
  
"We're going on a trip." Patricia announced. "You're going to love where we're going!"  
  
'But where ARE we going?' A voice nagged Patricia. Suddenly, a conclusion came. 'Edea's orphanage!'  
  
Fin Quistis 


	3. Irvine Kinneas

IRVINE KINNEAS  
  
"Katrina! You have a baby boy!" Katrina smiled weakly.  
  
"Is he beautiful?" She asked. At times like these, she wished she could see.  
  
"Yes Katrina, he's gorgeous. He even has a little head of hair!" Lydia exclaimed.  
  
"Benjamin, are you here?" Katrina asked. She held out her hands in the air. A silent figure took the hands.  
  
A man's gruff voice came out. "He says, 'What do you want to name him?'"  
  
"Irvine." Katrina said. She smiled. "Irvine Kinneas sounds perfect."  
  
"He agrees." Came the voice again.  
  
"But we can't keep him." Katrina said. "It'll be impossible."  
  
"He disagrees, ma'am."  
  
"Benji, honestly. How can a blind woman and a mute man look after a child?" Katrina asked.  
  
"He says to try."  
  
"We'll keep Lydia with us, but if things get to hard, we'll give him to an. . . an. . . orphanage." Katrina said. Warm arms enclosed Katrina. Benji put his face to her cheek and smiled. He mouthed words that she always knew the feeling to.  
  
"I love you too, Benji."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Irvine looked to the living room. Nope. "Mama!" Irvine cried frustrated. He ran upstairs. "How come you're never downstairs?"  
  
"Not today, Irvine. I can't. I might hurt myself." Katrina was sitting in bed like always. "Tell me what you're wearing today."  
  
Irvine looked down at the trench coat and chaps he wore. He felt the weight of the cowboy hat on his head. "Uhh. jeans and a t-shirt." He said.  
  
Benji walked into the room, put his face to Irvine's and mouthed the same words me said to his wife every day.  
  
"Me too, dad!" Irvine exclaimed. Benji just shook his head. "Oh, sorry." Benji pointed to the trench coat and nodded approvingly.  
  
"He says he likes it." Came the voice of Marc, Benji's speaker, from the doorway.  
  
"Thanks dad, but seriously," He tilted his head towards his mother. "Jeans and a t-shirt aren't too special." Benji's brow knotted into a quizzical look, but then he just nodded as he got the point. "Love you mom."  
  
"Me too, Irvine. Go play."  
  
Irvine trotted down the stairs, making gun noises.  
  
"He says, 'Now he knows where Irvine gets it from.'"  
  
"Yes, well. Benji? I'm afraid."  
  
"He says, 'Of what?'"  
  
"I think I'm dying, Benji." Benji sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head furiously. His mouth moved to form the word 'no' against Katrina's cheek. "Soon."  
  
Benji just left the room, hoping Katrina would understand. He motioned for Irvine to come.  
  
"What is it dad?" Irvine watched as Benji made the hand signals slowly, so Irvine could understand. "A trip? Why?" Benji shook his head and made another hand motion. "Alright."  
  
Benji nodded to Marc, hand signals flew and Marc bounded up the stairs after Irvine. Marc could talk with the boy better. He could also explain the operation. Irvine was a mature kid. He could take it. After all, the boy WAS eight.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"But why? I don't wanna go! Why forever?"  
  
"Because your mother and father can't look after you. The doctor says that your father might be able to speak after the operation, but there's a chance he'll die too. Your mother is also feeling worse."  
  
"Can't I stay until after the operation, then?" Irvine asked.  
  
"No. You have to go. Lydia knows this woman, Edea. She'll take you in." Marc explained. "It's for the best." Irvine nodded, defeated and left for Edea's orphanage.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Dead." Katrina said. Benji was dead? "Dead." Katrina smiled at the nurse taking her pulse. "Will it hurt?"  
  
"It might."  
  
"You know, I have a son who's fourteen now." Katrina said. She was full of pride. He'll save the world someday.  
  
"Do you still want to do this?"  
  
"If he's dead, I want to be."  
  
"Alright, this'll only hurt a second."  
  
Then the world went black on Katrina and Irvine was an orphan for the first time.  
  
Fin Irvine. 


End file.
